


What Fate had in Store

by vanitaslaughing



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: KH3 AU?, Suicide, based on a twitter conversation with the crew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-16 01:41:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3469703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanitaslaughing/pseuds/vanitaslaughing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The solution?<br/>Easy.<br/>He had to die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Fate had in Store

**Author's Note:**

> TO BE HONEST i feel like an awful human being. yeah i did write this while procrastinating on homework AND the next chapter of erinnerungskreise, im sorry about that
> 
> shoutout to noel and quin. its your own fault i wrote this.
> 
> this isnt spellchecked, word almost crashed on me while writing this, and its just a oneshot and i havent written these in AGES. sorry about any funky mistakes :c

He couldn’t recall at which point his opinion changed.

Wasn’t he supposed to agree to this with all his heart? With all his might? Yet he simply stared ahead blankly as everyone gathered. This was supposed to be destiny, an ever unbreakable timeline. He narrowed his eyes and looked at his more or less fortunate companions for this battle. One was sneering, obviously plotting something. Had this escaped the old one? He wasn’t sure. Another person just stared ahead with the blank eyes of someone clearly not capable of having his own opinion at this point, and the blue hair which framed his face looked dull. It was clear this guy was going to die, whether from this fight or from sheer shame after being freed from this possession was out of question. The rest, he didn’t particularly care looking at. Nobodies and Heartless, what was the point? What was this battle even worth?

The satisfaction of his own curiosity.

Well, not “his” but rather what would be his in a few years to come. With title of Master came the need to find out what would happen, and with even more time came darkness. With darkness came greed, and eventually megalomania. Just the thought of what apparently happened in the future left a bitter taste in his mouth. How could he do this? He had, by now, left the islands and obtained the weapon which had brought the downfall of the united world, and would now cause something akin to the tragedy of ancient times. He shuddered when he summoned it to his hands – the formerly warm and familiar weapon now seemed cold and unfamiliar, as if it was something he’d been given to stab his entire family with.

Wasn’t that what he ended up doing, anyway?

His birth parents were long dead by the time the islands fell into darkness, and so was his Master, but the one person he really considered family would be dead by his hands. Xehanort would kill Eraqus, something that made the young man’s blood run cold in his veins. It seemed so absurd to him. Eraqus was a bit too obsessed with light, yes, but it was not a dispute over power to kill for. And the older one, the old man, he did not even show an ounce of regret. It seemed like he deemed the straight-up murder of his best friend a necessity. Yes, Xehanort admitted he was ambitious. But he was not a murderer.

 _“Not yet,”_ a soft voice sang in the back of his head, _"_ _not yet.”_ “

 

And it wasn’t even a lie. He had said so himself: He would grow up into the man who became so many others. It made him shudder a little.

Satisfying curiosity was one thing, but walking over bodies for it? Was he really willing to do that?

The older one, yes. The Heartless and Nobody, yes. The possessed ones? He wasn’t sure.

He himself?

The answer was more or less a cross between yes and no at this point. It had always been this, ever since the Heartless had approached him on that day. He had followed out of curiosity, just like the elder one had predicted. His own future had been decided before he had even wasted a thought on it, and it was hilarious in hindsight. Wasn’t this what he had always wanted?

No, it wasn’t.

And Xehanort, the young one, knew that there had to be a way to stop this before it escalated. The future lay beyond everyone’s sight. Everyone who stood here in this dead wasteland did know their weaknesses, but they did not know what would come after this day. If all went according to the older one, it would be the day the X-Blade truly returned to man’s hands and Kingdom Hearts reappeared in the realm, and it would grant him the power he so desired.

“Keyblade-bearing warriors from all worlds with flock together in this place to battle for the light within Kingdom Hearts.”

Who had even said that? He knew so little about his… “companions” that he wasn’t even sure who had spoken. But that voice sounded tired. Which made it rather clear that this was another one who got dragged into this unwillingly, and Xehanort chewed on his lower lip for a moment. These few people were the ones that he’d literally walk across corpses for. How many people’s remains were scattered in the way he’d walk in his life? Suddenly even the laughing promise of Eraqus to outdo Xehanort eventually rang in his ears like an accusation. Everything Eraqus had said so far sounded like an underlying accusation by now.

“Just imagine when we’re Masters!” They would be Masters, yes. Masters that ended up enemies. “I hope I’ll be half as good at this teaching thing as our Master is. What about you?” Eraqus would be excellent. Xehanort would tear it all down.

As much as Xehanort loved the Land of Departure, now that he knew that he would tear it down himself, which would cause the remaining student of Eraqus’ to close it off. Home would become a prison, the resting place of all the dreams and hopes that he’d leave there broken in the supposed conquest of his own scientific needs. And it would not be the only home he would tear down carelessly in his quest for the truth behind the Keyblade War. As much as it interested him, just the fact that there had been humans used in experiments with actual, literal Heartless made Xehanort’s stomach upset.

He was a naturally curious person, but he was not as ruthless as that.

 _“Not yet,”_ the voice whispered again, _“not yet.”_

And then he realised, his opinion hadn’t just changed – it was the complete opposite of what it used to be.

What was even worse about this was the simple fact that he could not escape this. He was and would be Xehanort, the man who would inevitably cause all of this. He would stand here, leading 12 people all somehow influenced by him, and would lead them into battle against seven others who had both lost everything and gained a lot thanks to this plot. But none of them were thankful. Xehanort himself was not thankful for being dragged into this, even though he would be the cause of this. It seemed so backwards now that his mind had changed – the past self, against what the future self had planned through delicate time manipulation to ensure every piece would fall into place.

He had spaced out thinking about things that he barely noticed the battle starting. Surely none would care if he stayed behind – the older self did so as well, and they were more than the Guardians of Light anyway. One man could not win a war…

…

… except that he could.

The realisation came suddenly. It just popped into his head like it was just a casual thought.

His older self had essentially ensured that the timeline would be stable. It was a cycle, repeating itself in the right places to ensure that everything worked out the way it did to lead to this very day. There were murders delicately planned, and unrest carefully planted in certain worlds which would cause a chain reaction to lead to the children of the Destiny Islands to end up where they were. A chain reaction that was also partially started by his meddling in Radiant Garden’s business; a reaction to the blunt murder of the current Master of the Land of Departure and the following devastation of the world.

All of these events were influenced by the fact that Xehanort was there, that he had guided the actors into their respective roles.

If Xehanort were out of the picture…

Was this what the older one had overlooked? Such a simple, basic detail? It seemed too ridiculous in that moment, and he dodged a spell that went the wrong direction. Somewhere in the distance one of the seven was begging the remote-controlled one to open his eyes and come back. It was a heart-breaking to those who knew the redhead, but all Xehanort could see in this was what would become of him and Eraqus. It was sickening to think that the fellow Keyblade Master in training would be the one begging here, and that Xehanort would be the one with the blank stare.

He’d been welcomed to warmly in the Land of Departure that he’d felt more comfortable than he had ever on the Destiny Islands. Both worlds were small, yes, but the Land of Departure was a warm, welcoming place full of people who upheld a tradition with pride even though it had once ravaged the world they had lived in before. Despite all of this, the people of the Land of Departure were dutiful and always there when the worlds needed help. He remembered solemnly swearing that he would be one of these people as well – his oath to protect the worlds still rang in his ears, since he had given it not too long ago.

_“Honestly, I’d rather die than cause something awful to happen to the worlds.”_

_“Yeah, I understand the sentiment, Eraqus.”_

All this fighting could be stopped. Eraqus did not have to die. Friends did not have to fight friends, and students would not betray their masters. There would be less chaos in the worlds, and peace at least until another fool like Xehanort arose who desired an answer to the questions the Keyblade War left unanswered.

It was so easy.

Yet somehow terrifying enough to make him stop.

How much time had passed since they had started fighting? Xehanort had honestly lost track of time, but everyone looked exhausted by now. An hour, two perhaps? Or more? Maybe less? He had no idea, but time seemed so irrelevant now. He was a time-traveller, and the loop was stable. At least it was as long as all actors remained alive. It was then that Xehanort realised, not even once had any of the Seekers attempted to actually kill a Guardian. There were a few exceptions, of course, but most of these were granted to end up working out. The old one had ensured that it would all end up like this. It would all work out perfectly, to work along with his plan. Nobody but himself knew what he was actually planning – except that the old one had forgotten that Xehanort was here as well. He may have been the younger one, but he understood what the older one intended to do.

_“Your biggest enemy is yourself. The Keyblade is a gift as much as it is a curse. What did the Master mean with that?”_

_“… Eraqus, that was two weeks ago. You still haven’t figured it out?”_

_“I’m this close to figuring it out, just help your friend out a little, will you?”_

_“You can’t defeat yourself. If you’re overrun by greed and what not a Keyblade can cause, you’ll end up no better than the ones that started the Keyblade War. And you can’t defeat yourself, more or less.”_

_“Okay. What if time-travelling was involved? You against your younger self?”_

_“… Eraqus.”_

_“All right, all right, sorry.”_

This was the easiest solution to stop that pointless fighting. It was so easy that he almost started laughing – he could prevent himself killing his best friend in the future, and make sure that none of these children and fellow Keyblade Wielders would somehow have their hearts broken. Xehanort knew the solution now, and he was certain that not even his older self had considered this before.

The only way to stop this was to break the timeline.

And to achieve that, Xehanort had to vanish from all possible outcomes.

The solution?

He had to die.

They were on a battlefield. It was so easy to “accidentally” run into a weapon or get hit by a spell. It was so easy to make it all look like an accident, like the Guardians actually actively achieved victory over Xehanort by themselves. But even as he thought about that for a moment, Xehanort rolled his eyes. He had enough dignity left to not die like that – he wasn’t coward enough to run into another’s weapon, or beg someone to end him in order to save the worlds. Most of these people were innocent, and while he knew that Braig would be more than happy enough to shoot him dead, Xehanort preferred to go his own way.

The fighting eventually came to a standstill. Something in this world was changing, and he knew that now was his only chance. So, as relaxed as anyone, Xehanort simply looked around and made sure his older self was looking. And then, much to everyone’s surprise, he dropped the Keyblade he had clutched before. His weapon of choice had always been ethereal blades. Why had he ever desired a Keyblade? Leaving a world was easy. What had he ever needed this particular weapon for?

Xehanort started to understand. Maybe this was what fate had in store for him – maybe this was the future he could at least partially influence. If he wouldn’t be there, Eraqus would never even consider testing his students in a peculiar way, which led to one being given the name of Master and the other being denied such due to Xehanort’s meddling. Ventus would never be ripped into two people. Radiant Garden, the Destiny Islands, all those other worlds would never fall into darkness. The apprentices of Ansem the Wise would never backstab their master, and those two childhood friends would not fall apart like that.

Xehanort was the one thing that needed to be erased from the equation.

The only one who would always somehow stay selfish and ready to plot would be Braig, but without a Keyblade Master on his side there was no way that the man would cause trouble.

Before even any single person gathered at the Keyblade Graveyard could react, Xehanort grinned a rather unusual grin and used his weapon against himself.

The last thing he heard was a surprised yell from behind him, from the man he knew would now no longer become all these others.

 

* * *

 

“… Master Eraqus?”

“Yes, Terra?”

“Say, I don’t mean to pry, but… this picture there. That’s you, and your Master, and…?”

Eraqus sighed and just put a hand on the teenager’s head.

“Xehanort. He was training here as well, just like Aqua.”

“I don’t think I heard of a Master Xehanort, though…?”

“Well, we were training together. But Xehanort never finished his training. He just… stopped breathing one night. Just like that.”

“…”

“It makes me wonder what he would have become if he hadn’t died like that. He was intelligent, ambitious, yet somehow managed to keep everything under control. Even the Master said that there weren’t many people like Xehanort. He was… the best friend I ever had, really. He would have deserved being a Keyblade Master. But I suppose, fate just wouldn’t let him.”


End file.
